The Black-throated Gray Warbler 



Taken in Riverside County 



AT THE 6300 FOOT LEVEL— SAN JACINTO MOUNTAINS 



Photo by the A ulhor 



Jacinto Mountains! and oh, the solitude of that all-obliterating sea! 

 To be sure, the "shore" where I stood was 6300 feet above sea-level; 

 but it was as if the elder world had reasserted itself. Our continent-to-be 

 comprises only mountain ridges. The Hemet Range to the south juts 

 into our ocean like a promontory, while the distant Santa Ana Range 

 (beyond Elsinore) lies as an island, as perfectly defined as Santa Cruz. 

 Riverside, Pomona, Pasadena, Los Angeles, those troublers of the future, 

 they are indistinguishable ooze at the bottom of this ocean of grayness. 

 The sun, coming up from behind, smiles to see the prank which Mother 

 Nature has played, and all the surface of this pseudo-sea quivers with 

 delight, — weird doings, which only the bird and I witness; for presently 

 he emerges from his morning dip and resumes his drowsy song of solitude. 

 His perch is authentic mountain laurel (for all we are at the seaside), 

 and the bird, unmindful of the morning's frolic, voices his quaint happi- 

 ness in woods woods woodsy, tones whose somnolent effect belies the 

 earnestness of the singer. 



These notes are evidently the charm before which the spell breaks. 



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